A very long silence stretches between us.

“I’m sorry, little girl.” She whispers, and when I turn I see tears in her eyes too, “I… I knew they meant to take your songs. Knew there was one place you could go that they couldn’t follow. For most Fae… those woods are an unmaking, a death. A sort of rotting flesh at the edge of the Dream. Truth of just how… how the Dreamer is dead.”

“Then why send me there?” I hiss.

“Because… The Dream had been stirring around your soul since long before I found you.” She lays her mug aside, stares straight up into the trees. “You already knew such… anguish, and pain like no other Fae I’d met. The despair those woods fill us with would be nothing compared to what you’d already overcome.”

That… I don’t know what to say. What to think. She’d told me no Fae would enter those woods, but never why.

“Most of us…” She continues, “We’ve only known the joys of acceptance and love. We remember our past life, and cherish what we were. Our first people thoughts are of a loving parent teaching us new things, and all the possibilities of life.”

“But… I… I found words. Horrid things to use in my songs. Fear and Pain and Spite!” I counter.

She winces at that, glances down to my blackened fingers, “I… I had hoped you’d find peace. Take a few decades or a century to… settle into yourself. To…”

I shake my head. “I didn’t.”

She meets my eyes then, “I did try, Lyra. To visit. About… half a year after you went back to those woods. But after three steps into that forest and I knew I could not reach you. That I wasn’t as strong as you.”

I… I can’t stop the tears then.

“Usete was… they said something like that too. But I thought it started after I’d already…”

She shakes her head. “Your… past. It was harmful to everything around you. But the way to fix that wasn’t to strip you of your songs, wasn’t to invite more of the same. But to give you the love and acceptance you needed. To help you want to live!”

I jerk back at that. That horrible Fae painting drilled into my soul and given Fae words to twist its misery into being.

“I could see it in your eyes then, when I pulled your dirty little human body from the underbrush, and I see it now.” She doesn’t look away, “You despise this dream, you gnash and kick and will stir the Dead Dreamer to awaken amidst that fury and bitterness.”

Old memory scars are torn free, fresh and bleeding. Born in the wrong body, despised by my human parents for it, chased away under fear of pain and death. Then given life again, given real love by this amazing mother, only have it taken away.

…Then Thendra found me.

“I won’t let them take what little happiness I’ve found.” I growl.

“Nor should you.” She gently takes my hand and looks forward.

My anger sputters at her agreement and touch.

“Now, would you like to tell me about what you’ve been up to?” She takes up her mug to drink, “Tell me about what happiness you’ve carved for yourself?”

I stammer, “You’ll… you’ll hate me for it.”

Raised eyebrows, but nothing more. I have to look away.

“I… Usete… they–”

“Why not start at the beginning?” She murmurs, “From when we last parted ways?”

Deep breaths…. And I tell her. Starting with my landing on the forest floor, and my escape to the Dreamer’s Wood. I whisper the tale of the scared girl who wandered until she found a tree she liked, and began to sing a home from it. Of all the little things I wove into my life there and how I built most of it from memory of my time with her.

She asks questions and praises my work as I paint pictures of it from memory. We spend a few hours just sharing the joy of the little projects that come with weaving a home. Then I get to Undreka’s arrival. How I discovered her bloody and weakened at the edge of my song wards. She doesn’t interrupt, but I can see her tension as I describe her form. Pretty charcoal black skin and a whirling of Amwella with big cute tendrils!

She calms a little as I tell of our time together, winces at my horrid attempt at seduction and fleeing into the forest to nurture my pain. I can almost see her thoughts. Should have listened, little girl. Should have tempered or numbed those desires and sensations for a decade or more.

“Then there were more, right outside my home. Didn’t even trigger my wards till they were right on top of it.”

I see such obvious dregs of worry on her face. I almost don't tell her... look away in shame and consider... But no. She asked. Which is such a rare thing for her to do. I... I'm not even sure how much I ever told her about my past as a human.

Deeeeep breaths. And I tell her of my race back, of Undreka’s capture… and of my Lament and offer.

She doesn’t interrupt my whispered retelling.

Then I tell her of Thendra’s demand, of the curse she wanted me to place over my songs, and I cannot bear to look up from my long empty mug to catch even a glimpse of her expression.

“I… I was so alone.” I set the mug down. “And she… she wants me.”

A long pause as I fight to say it. To tell her I–

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“I’m so sorry Lyra.” She whispers, all pain and sorrow at what a disappointment I must be.

“I’m not.” I bite down on the lie, add truths to make it feel real. “I would do it again, if the choice was between another day alone or being wanted… Even being–”

A Slave. I can't speak the word. Not even here. Especially not here!

“Oh… Oh Lyra No." She moves to sit in front of me, tries to take my hands. "She…She doesn’t love–”

“It doesn't matter!” I don’t let her finish, just… pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Glare over at the hive next to me. I grind my teeth, don’t even try to stop the angry tears. “She protects me, fucks me, helps me learn Fae words you never could.”

That makes her jerk back. I bite down on the words before I can finish spitting more pain.

“I’m sorry… That… that wasn’t fair.” I whisper quickly. “You’re wonderful. I just… I wish…”

I peek up to see her tears then. Watch as a part of her breaks at hearing this. Oh no. no no no no no. Please no…

“It’s not your fault.” I whisper. Trying desperately to heal the wounds I've struck into her.

We sit in silence then, let an eternity pass as we both endure our pain. She’s going to ask you to leave. Or… Call the Fae elders, and toss you off the edge again whenever–

“Would… May I hold you, my Lyra?” She whispers.

I choke on the wave of pain and guilt, but nod. I hadn’t told her that part of the story yet, how… how Thendra saying that had means so much to me. She moves to my side, wraps her arms around me. I lean into her warmth, and let the sorrow boil over.

She… We didn’t… I don’t tell her the rest. Can’t bring myself to break her heart anymore. Much much later we both dry our tears and return to her home, try to gain some measure of sleep.

* * *

“Go.” Mother jostles me from my wander with a bump.

I jerk over to stare down at her, “Huh?”

We’re walking along the wide branches sung into pathways between the huge trees of the Midday Court. Dozens of other Fae rush and move about them. Some sing songs of flight and swiftness I only ever dreamt of learning, while others are content to simply walk like us.

This is the second time in the past two weeks she has insisted I come with her on little errands and social visits. I resisted at first, terrified that others would see my blackened hands, or worse. But she only chided me, saying that the Fae of this forest warp themselves into my more colorful and maddened shapes. That compared to them my scars would seem mundane, if not a bit… grim or sullen. Along with my dark hair most would think I’d originated as a midnight panther… or some kind of beetle.

So I relented, and off we went. And I loved it so much that I actually asked when the next time we’d head out together. That seemed to make Mother very happy.

Such color and songs twist around us as we walk. Our first outing had been very short, a trip to a friend to trade seeds and gossip. I’d only caught glimpses of the Midday Courts' more intricate works at a distance. But now we walked the edges of it, and I am enveloped by its splendor and chorus.

Flowers of all colors line the trees and branches, while strange birds and odd critters and beasts lounge about or pass underfoot. Thousands and thousands of little homes and hovels dot the trees from root to canopy, all sung from the bark and connected to the largest branches that form the pathways.

But at the moment, that is not what captures my attention.

Down a few pathways, three huge branches have swirled together tight enough to hold a large basin of water. Smaller ones weave above to create ledges that hang anywhere between ten feet to fifty above the crystal clear waters. And there are at least six dozen Fae at play amidst it all. Swimming and leaping and swinging about grappling vines. And the low hum of joyous songs echo from it all like a blazing flame in the dead of night.

“I know you can swim,” She reaches out and takes the basket I carry.

I don’t resist her, but I don’t move. “I’m not sure I should.”

She walks over and begins to settle herself down to sit in a small grove on the side of this pathway. I follow her, kneel down to whisper. “I’m not going to swim in this tunic, I’ll look like–”

“I’d hope not! Swim naked like the rest!” She huffs.

I glance down. That’s the problem. Everyone down there is naked and glorious and wrapped in a body they are proud to display. I’d grown accustomed to seeing many Fae simply weave fur and feather over naked flesh in these past weeks, and it did little to bother me. But for me to undress here…

“Mother.” I hiss, jerk my tunic down enough to show her the mark on my collarbone. “My hands may be ignored, but these won’t be.”

But… she just shrugs. “Laments are… not common. But they happen. Not often for good reasons, but…”

I fall back to sit on the grove with her. “My point exactly. And I bear two.”

She sighs, lays a hand on my knee. “Lyra, You should still go.”

I glance up to her.

“Don’t let the nonsense in a stranger’s mind ever rob you of happiness.”

“But what if someone… knows what I am. About the… the stirring. Goes to alert Fae elders?”

She pulls her hand back, begins to reach into a basket for some of the snacks we brought. “Usete already told them, a week ago. None will come check on you till it's time.”

My eyes go wide. Fear and anger and words of–

“What!?!” I hiss, “How could… They betrayed me? Again!?!”

That makes her chuckle. “No, little girl, it’s the way of things. A Fae elder will come visit us when you’ve healed more. Usete approached different ones and with a great deal more… humility this time. Calm and such. Explained how you needed healing, not… well… what we feared last time.”

I dig talons into the soil. Only a little calmer, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am. Right now.”

I huff, let some of the anger out, give her a little glare.

She rolls her eyes, and through a bite reaches out to pull at my tunic. “Go. Burn that grumpiness off in the waters. Leave your tunic here.”

I don’t move.

“Or don’t! And watch others enjoy life.”

That jolts me, makes me grind my teeth and rise. “Fine.”

“Fine.” But I see her satisfied grin as she hums a little tune of victory.

By the time my anger cools, I’m striding naked down the largest branch that stretches over the waters.

The surrounding songs do help drown my anger with joy and anticipation. But… they also add to it. Stir my own desire to sing with them. This branch is the least crowded. Less Fae willing to dive off its height without first knowing the songs of flight.

Then I’m running. Slipping past a few surprised Fae hesitating at the rim and launching myself as high as I can go off the highest point of the branch. I’m not graceful, especially by Fae standards. I’d watched as others used their songs to arch and twist into dives and flips and all sorts of impossible movements.

I just… kind of… stutter at the final moments and find myself caught between wanting to do a simple dive, but also trying for a flip. I end up doing a sort of… pinwheeling motion as I arrive at the apex of my leap, turn halfway and begin to plunge very very fast toward the waters below.

I must look like some panicked cat who's just had the branch beneath them snap. Luckily my instincts kick in and I get my feet beneath me before I slam into the waters below. The jolt of cold and the sudden stop of that little rush from falling, followed by the seconds of calm are wonderful.

I open my eyes to the vast underwater realm. Amidst twisting branch tunnels, plants and fish whirl about with the Fae. I end up just… letting myself sink down to the bottom to enjoy the muffled thrum of song. Weeds and flowers curl about my ankles as I settle, then stir as I kick off and begin to swim amidst the waterways. But… soon my lungs cry for air amidst the strain. On my way up some of the Fae rush past me, and I feel a twinge of annoyance and jealousy as I spot the fins and gills on them.

I wonder… I wonder if Thendra would let me–

I break the surface in a burst, take a delicious breath of the sweet air, and begin pulling my hair aside. I glance up and about, consider swimming back down or climbing back up to the tallest height. Can’t help but grin as I decide on the jump. I swim to the water’s edge and hoist myself up. I barely suppress the urge to run as I begin to make my way up the slope to the winding paths.

Within seconds my joy is stifled as I feel eyes on me. From my peripheral vision I catch more than a few of the Fae staring. I increase my speed, focus on twisting and pulling my hair into some semblance of order. They… they're all perfect in their own ways. Vibrant colored hair, skin perfect and lush with scales and feathers. Bright eyes and lips weaving magic songs into the air.

And then there is me. Dirty black hair I could never get to shift to the bluish hue I originally wanted, lips still and unsinging, and hands blotched an ugly dead color. Even my skin still carries the subtle hint of healing scars and bruises, despite Usete and my mothers’ best songs.

I look such the outsider among them. Almost… I’ve lost enough of myself that they’d be almost right if they didn’t consider me Fae.

I keep climbing, gripped by my mother’s words. “Don’t let the nonsense in a stranger’s mind ever rob you of happiness.” I whisper to myself.

Then I’m at the top again, the branch stretching out before me.

Same as before, I run and leap.

I commit to a dive this time, but about halfway down something strikes my side and foot, and then I’m tumbling sideways. I jerk my spine, try to correct like I’d done a million times when falling from a branch, but the angles are all wrong and I’d had my songs then–

Impact. A spike of ice in one of my ankles. And I instantly lose my lungful of air in a pained, muffled hiss. I don’t panic, but I do instantly begin swimming to the surface.

I break, gasp, and begin a pained half-paddle to the edge.

What Dreamer cursed thing even hit me!?!